The Taming of the Ferret
by I M Sterling
Summary: Draco Malfoy finds out a family curse has been activated. He plans to let the curse take him...until his best friend steps in at the behest of his parents. Now that she's saved Draco's life, Hermione will have to live with Draco as his wife for a year and day...unless Draco can convince her that the contract needs an extension. Rated M. JKR owns HP.
1. Chapter 1

_**I have a friend who had a birthday on the 26**_ _ **th**_ _ **….she wanted some Draco / Hermione, so I pulled this off my hard drive and dusted it off. It's kind of based on Taming of the Shrew...with a modern dramione twist of course. I will warn that the updates will be slow…I'm finishing a long fic, editing my next real-life book, and I just got a new ghost-writing job! (yay). But I do promise that it will get done. And Happy Birthday G!**_

 **The Taming of the Ferret**

 **Chapter One:**

Narcissa Malfoy paced around her husband's office as his eyes followed her. He kept himself rigidly erect but he drank his firewhiskey with a speed that belied any pretence of ease.

The fire glowed green for a moment, and both Malfoys looked at their visitor.

Hermione Granger cleaned her robes with a quick flick of her wand and raised an eyebrow at Lucius.

"Please sit down Miss Granger."

"I'd rather stand."

Narcissa sighed and glared at her husband.

Lucius nodded. "Whatever makes you feel most at home Miss Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes at both of them. "Your letter said that you had information that could help me get my Centaur Rights Bill passed…"

Lucius nodded and motioned his wife to the other chair. Narcissa sat down.

He looked up at the young witch who was his only remaining hope. "I can do a great deal more than that Miss Granger. I can guarantee that your law will be on the books by next week if you will help our family out of a difficulty…" He saw her eyes narrow. "Nothing illegal I assure you, Narcissa and I are simply trying to break a very old curse and we have very little time left to do it."

Hermione looked somewhat appeased. "What kind of curse?"

Narcissa sighed. "One that comes from my family line I'm afraid. We had no idea that it would follow the bloodline after the Black surname was lost with Sirius…"

Lucius frowned. "The Blacks cursed their offspring with an age limit on marriage. If they don't marry by age twenty-five they sicken and die."

Narcissa flicked her wand at the wine decanter and a glass floated to her hand. "Draco is dying."

 **DMHG**

Narcissa watched the younger woman turn pale. "We need someone to marry him, today, this very hour, and since Eighth year you've been his closest friend."

Hermione's jaw dropped.

Lucius sighed. "I know this seems odd, but Sirius Black found a loophole…he married a girl and they parted after living together for a year and a day. According to Andromeda he never touched the girl. All the spell requires is a legal marriage. "

Narcissa took Hermione's hand. "Do this for him and I will give you anything that's in my power to give…"

Lucius continued. "With the Malfoy name behind you'll be able get legislation through that would never get a second glance. As my daughter-in-law, you'd have the ear of Wizards who would never give a Muggle-born the time of day…and no matter what happens our family will always support your efforts."

Hermione held up her hands in a stopping motion. "What does Draco say about all of this?" She looked around the room, as if she expected him to come strolling in.

Lucius put his hand on Narcissa's as she stifled a sob as she explained. "He says he won't do it. We found out a month ago, and I started throwing him together with pure-bloods and half-bloods. He didn't take it well."

Lucius frowned. "You mean he threw a temper tantrum. He dumped a cake over one young lady's head. He transfigured that other one's bracelet into handcuffs. Then the stupid boy went to his house in Wiltshire and hexed all the windows and doors closed and warded the floo. He wouldn't talk to anyone, quit his job at the Auror office by owl…"

Hermione nodded. "I heard about that…Harry was worried, but Draco said he just needed some time to think. He sent me an owl and mentioned that you were pushing him to wed and that he was hiding out for the foreseeable future."

Narcissa laughed and for a moment she sounded like her crazy sister, Bellatrix. "He was just pushing everyone away before…" It turned into another tearless sob half-way through her sentence.

Lucius continued. "We finally had a house elf crawl into a box of deliveries from his grocery story the day before his birthday…when we got him back, he was delirious with fever. Narcissa and I have tried everything at our disposal for the past three days…but this is the only thing that can save him."

Hermione frowned. "Can I talk to him?"

Narcissa stood. "I'll take you to see him, but he hasn't been conscious for 48 hours."

Draco was lying in his room, his face gaunt and pale with a fine sheen of sweat across his brow. An elf was bathing his forehead with a cold rag.

"Is there any change?"

The elf turned his rather aristocratic head.

"No change Mistress. The young Master doesn't even mumble in his sleep."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She went to him and knelt by the bed.

"Draco…Draco can you hear me?"

No response.

She turned to Narcissa with fire in her eyes.

"How are we going to get married if he's not even conscious?"

In the end, their 'marriage' was signed into being in the study under the rather nervous eye of a Ministry official. The little man kept looking at Hermione, as if trying to discern the presence of an Imperious curse. Once the contract was signed the two…no three…Malfoys breathed a sigh of relief.

Hermione looked up at her new father-in-law. "How is what we just did even legally binding?"

Lucius smirked. "You forget, our laws are geared largely toward perpetuating the pure bloodlines. Draco is technically living under our roof and unable to sign contracts at the moment, therefore his power of attorney was automatically transferred to me as the head of household…and now to you, as his wife…of course since the curse has been lifted, you won't have that power more than a moment or two…"

"I just hope Draco doesn't hate me."

Narcissa nodded. "It is my hope that he'll eventually forgive us all. One of the requirements of the spell is that you live under the same roof for the year. I'll get you a set of guest rooms here, but you and Draco can arrange something as far as housing goes…"

Lucius tied a series of letters to no less than six owls that were waiting.

"Your Centaur Rights bill will be brought up for a vote tomorrow. I've called in enough favors to get it through."

Hermione sighed. That wasn't really how she'd wanted to get her legislation passed.

"Well, isn't this cozy…."

A snide voice from the doorway drew her attention to Draco's skeletal form. She went to him without thought.

"Draco…" Her friend did not meet her with a welcoming smile.

"What did they offer you? I would have thought that you of all people couldn't be bought, but I suppose that everyone has their price…should I assume my dowry is being paid in rare books…?"

Hermione grinned and hit his arm, lightly. "Wish I'd thought to demand that…"

Draco didn't grin back.

"Why couldn't you respect my decision, just this once?"

He was glaring at his parents.

Hermione was the one who answered. "Because _you_ were being stupid."

Draco turned back to Hermione. "I didn't want this."

She put one hand on her hip. "Don't be such a drama queen. So you have to have me as a roommate for the next year and a day? It isn't a fate worse than death."

"Says you." He snarled and turned to his parents. "That's what you told her? That this was just for a year?"

Narcissa sighed in frustration. "That's all it has to be Draco."

Draco smirked. "Did she know about the bonding spell on the parchment?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her new in-laws.

"What. Bonding. Spell?"

Narcissa snapped. "The one that allows the two of you to have a sham of a marriage instead of the kind where I get grandchildren out of this business." She glared at her son. "It's a very mild bonding, the kind that was required at a marriage when the curse was set."

Draco's glare was pure venom. "And tell her the rest mother. Tell her how she can divorce me after a year and a day…but the bond is to death till us part…"

Narcissa slammed her glass of wine down on the fine wood of her husband's desk. "That bond is a small price to pay for your life Draco. The two of you will always be close, will always feel each other's pain and pleasure…but it doesn't force anything on you that you didn't already have. You've been friends for years."

"We were friends, of our own free will. How is she supposed to move on after the divorce…do you think a new husband will feel comfortable with me knowing her inner moods…or knowing every time they make love? Oh don't flinch mother, you and father did this after all."

Lucius pulled his wife closer. "You could have picked someone Draco. You had the chance. There were any number of girls who would have been happy to marry you."

Draco snorted. "You mean they would have been happy to marry the family vault."

Lucius acknowledged that fact with a single raised brow. "You left us with very little time and few options to save your life. I had hoped that you would see this choice as something of a departure for your mother and I…when we had to make a choice to save your life, we chose someone who makes you happy."

Draco looked ready to argue but Hermione stepped in.

"And for my part, I'm rather annoyed that you didn't tell me any of this yourself."

Draco turned on her. "That would be a cheerful conversation…Oh yeah by the way, my pure blood status has once again risen up to bite me in the ass and I'll be dead by the end of the month…and you know what would have happened if I'd told you. You'd be in this exact same position…"

"Except you wouldn't have gotten so ill before we arrived at it. See, you really should have just told me and saved everyone the trouble of dragging you off your deathbed."

Draco's eyes widened and his body seemed to go slack. "I'm too tired to argue with you. I'm getting a shower and going to bed. I assume Mother, that you've found my new wife a suite of rooms?" Narcissa nodded and an exceptionally angry Draco stalked off (the effect was somewhat offset by the slight wobble as he tried to climb the stair.).

Lucius sighed. "I suppose that went as well as could be expected…"

Hermione was toweling her hair when she heard Draco knock lightly at the door to her 'rooms' (which were actually larger than her rented flat).

She supposed the new bond was responsible for knowing it was him.

"Come in."

He was wearing black pajamas. He shrugged when he noticed that she'd noticed.

"Mother threatened to hex me if I put on real clothing. She thinks I took a sleeping draught."

Hermione frowned at him.

"You should have taken it Draco, you look like hell."

He sighed. "I will take it, later. But I needed to apologize to you. You did exactly what my parents knew you would do, rushing in and saving me without thought for yourself."

She rolled her eyes as he sat down on her bed. "You are an idiot. I'm your friend. Of course I'm going to try to save you if I can. Even if I'd known about the bond I would have done it."

He turned over and studied the room. "I'm so sorry."

She flopped onto the bed with him. "I'm not…after all, you did say something about a dowry paid in rare books…"

They laughed together. "I'm an ass."

She was still chuckling. "No argument about that…but you _do_ know me well…people who want to bribe me should bring hard backs…preferably first editions."

He reached up and pushed the wet tangle of hair away from her face. "Well Mrs. Malfoy…not exactly the way you pictured your wedding night, right?" His laugh was bitter again.

Hermione sighed. "I know this is going to sound…less than girly…but I never really pictured my wedding night…well, I had one brief flash of what it might be like when Ron proposed…"

Draco laughed. "No doubt why you told the git 'no' and hexed him."

She stood up and pulled the blankets back. "Yeah, that's exactly the kind of vision I was thinking about." She shuddered slightly. "You need to realize this isn't the end of the world. And you need to think about one thing."

She climbed under the blankets on one side of the bed while he still lay on top of the blankets on the other side.

"What's that?"

She plumped her pillows. "You need to think about how I would have felt if you had gone through with it….letting yourself die… It would have felt like someone shoved a knife into my chest."

He moved off the bed, uncomfortable and unsure of what he should say. He thought that he was doing the right thing…taking responsibility and not expecting other people to fix what was going wrong in his life. _One of these days, I'm going to finally figure out this whole 'grown up' thing…"_

"I'll let you sleep then."

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever scare me like that again, ok?" He looked down at his best friend, and something ached in his heart.

"Goodnight Hermione."

She watched him walk away as she snuggled into the cold bed. No, if she ever _had_ imagined her wedding night…it wouldn't be anything like this.

Draco paced in his study with a fire whiskey in his hand. The doors were hexed closed so he knew he wouldn't be disturbed.

"I see that despite your best efforts, you've returned to the land of the living."

Draco nearly groaned out loud. He'd forgotten the portrait…

He turned and saw the portrait of his dead Godfather smirk back at him.

"Severus, why aren't you at Hogwarts annoying McGonagall?"

The smirk never left the ex-potions master's face. "I cannot take another second of her tipsy confessions to Dumbledore's blasted portrait."

Draco took another long pull of his whiskey. "It never gets easier does it?"

Snape raised a well-painted brow. "To what are you referring Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco poured himself another drink. "Gryffindor women. If you fall for them, they get in your bloodstream, and not even death really helps."

Snape snorted. "I'll ignore the implication about Minerva and myself, and move straight into the obvious question…Are you referring to your new wife, or has some other Gryffindor witch made her way into your affections?" 

Draco sighed. "Is there another Gryffindor witch?" He slumped into the buttery leather couch and used a refilling charm on his glass. 

Snape's smirk intensified. "I suppose there must be one or two others."

Draco took another long pull of his drink.

"What we have here, my dear Godfather, is the definition of irony. On the surface, it's everything I could have asked for…not only married to Hermione, but bonded to her as well. And then reality sets in. We're married because she wanted to save my life. She doesn't intend to stay with me for longer than the year and a day…"

"Stupid boy! Are you a Slytherin or not? You have the perfect opportunity to woo her. Miss Granger is married to you, bonded to you, and you know very well that she would consider that dating while the two of you are technically married taboo. If you play your cards correctly, you should have a year of her nearly undivided attention to win her affections. Either get on your broom or get off the pitch. Use your head for more than just showing off that impressive mane of hair."

Draco laughed. Severus Snape looked fifteen years younger than he had when he died. Being a portrait agreed with him. The magical portrait had been painted included a decanter of brandy in the background. Severus helped himself to a large tumbler before he spoke again.

" In all seriousness Draco…woo the witch or let her go, because if you remain where you are, you'll lose her a piece at a time to some other man." Draco wasn't too inebriated to notice the sadness in Snape's voice, but he was too polite to push.

Draco finished his drink. "Well at least tell me that somewhere in all this noble rubbish about wooing her I'll have the opportunity to do some seriously Slytherin plotting."

Snape smirked back at the son he'd never had.

"Only if you want a chance in hell of winning."

Draco took a hangover potion before he slipped into his bed. The house elves had undoubtedly changed the sheets. Odd, to go from dying to perfect in a matter of minutes. As soon as Hermione had married him, his body had healed.

His Godfather was rarely wrong about the important things in life, and Draco knew instinctively that he wasn't wrong now. He had avoided courting her for years because he enjoyed her friendship more than he could have imagined. It was his lifeline that final year at Hogwarts…a gift freely offered.

It had taken most of the first half of their 'eighth year' for him to accept the gift…and he'd done so only after he caught her crying.

 _He was moving along the shadows, coming back from the library when he saw her. She was sitting in a pool of moonlight sobbing quietly as she wrapped her thin arms around her body._

" _Granger?"_

 _She'd looked up at him, and he knew somehow that this was it. One wrong word from him and she would break, shatter, and the light in her soul would finally be lost to the world forever._

 _He didn't even consider his next action; he simply wrapped his long arms around her body and sat down beside her._

" _Do you want to talk about it?"_

 _She relaxed into his arms. "Not right now Malfoy…I just can't…"_

 _He rubbed small circles on her back and held her…he wasn't sure for how long._

 _But when he saw her eyes again, he knew…he had done something right. He'd earned her friendship in that moment._

He'd learned later that her parents had died. A freak storm had damaged the muggle flying ship they were traveling on…an aero-plain or something like that. Over the next months, he was her strong shoulder to cry on. He was the one who guarded and protected her. It made him feel like a man for the first time in his life.

He knew by the end of the year that his feelings had morphed into something other than mere friendship, but she was dating Weasley and so he didn't speak up.

The year after Hogwarts was hard. He'd joined the Auror program and was assigned to work with Potter…winning scar-head's trust was like juicing a shrivel fig. He'd managed, eventually.

The next year Weasley had proposed. Hermione had turned the ginger down, most likely because Harry had informed her of several indiscretions…and Draco might have had something to do with Harry finding out about those. Hermione deserved someone who would treat her like a queen…and cheating on her was something that led to mysterious hexes being fired at a man's dangly bits, as the ginger git could attest.

He'd dated sporadically as the years passed as did Hermione…but in between their rising careers and their scheduled movie nights, book shopping expeditions, and frequent dinners together, neither felt the loss of company or the need to fill that place with more than what they had.

Draco shook off his half-drunken thoughts about the past and tried to focus on a game-plan for the future.

How does one get out of the friend zone? The obvious choice was jealousy, but he knew he couldn't fake interest in another woman, not with the bond allowing them glimpses into each other's feelings and motivations.

So…woo her? How did one go about wooing one's best friend?

His first inclination was to start small. He wondered if that was cowardly for a moment, but he decided that he'd call it practical. So, small steps.

Annnnd…he was drawing a blank. Maybe a change of scenery would help? He briefly considered a white sand beach, but he was certain he'd push too far if he was exposed to too much honey browned skin.

Then it hit him. They could avoid each other forever in the manor. He didn't stay here most of the time anyway. With another woman, playing lady of the manor might be an added inducement, but Hermione wouldn't be impressed…well, not by anything except the library, and he'd played that card before they'd ever left Hogwarts...when he'd practically forced his parents to give her a chance.

So, they needed to move to either her tiny flat (which would necessitate either magically adding a room, or sharing a bedroom…hmmm…) or to his Wiltshire home. Her flat was more comfortable and close to Diagon Alley, but his home was larger, and included both a library and a study that they could share (but it had those damnable separate bedrooms). He shrugged. There were pros and cons to either situation. He'd leave the final decision to her.

The whiskey and his sudden peace of mind lulled him to sleep as he continued to plot…er…plan. And if there had been anyone there to notice, they would have seen Draco Malfoy sleeping with a smile on his lips for the first time in years.

Hermione arrived at breakfast the next day in something of a dither.

The elder Malfoys were staring at her in her pajamas and robe, but they seemed to feel enough gratitude that they didn't mention her state of dress.

"I woke up this morning and all of the clothing was gone!"

Draco shook his head in evident sympathy as he poured a cup of tea.

"We'll have to floo to your place today."

She huffed. "I hate having to miss work."

Draco nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm sure one of the elves just took the clothing to press it or something. But that said, I'd like to get back into my routine as quickly as possible. I hate to point this out, but we need to decide where we'll be living for the next year…"

His mother looked shocked. "Draco you know very well that I would love for both of you to stay here as long as you like…"

He nodded to his mother. "Mother, I'm quite well. I want to thank all of you for fighting to save my life, but the curse has been broken…"

Lucius looked up from his copy of the Prophet. "Fulfilled. For the moment. Not broken." He folded the paper neatly as he looked at his son. "And I agree Narcissa. They need to go home so I can resume my normal routine."

Draco actually bit back a smile at his father's tone. It was nice to have a bit of back up.

"Draco, I have some papers in the study that I need to go over with you…"

Draco stood, nodded to his wife, kissed his mother on the cheek (how backwards was his life?) and followed his father into the study.

His father put a silencing charm on the door and handed him a thick stack of papers. "What's all this?"

Lucius motioned with one elegant hand. "Reports about the family holdings, that sort of thing. You have your own copies, but I wanted to speak with you, so take the bloody papers so I'll have the memory when your mother tries to read my mind later." Draco smirked. It was good to know that he wasn't the only one who lived in terror of his mother's wand work.

His father put a hand on his shoulder. He automatically had Draco's attention. Acts of physical affection were few and far between in the Malfoy household. "Never do that to me again son. I could not bear it."

His father cleared his throat and dropped his hand. "Now, on to business. I wanted to reiterate to you that this curse is fulfilled for the moment, it is by no means broken. We have people working on it, but I want to be sure you know the conditions. You must live with Miss Granger for a year and a day. Do not push it. If she has to travel for her work, go with her."

"Are all the Black marriages so cozy?"

"No, but we don't dare push the matter since you have no intention of…consummating the marriage." His father looked slightly uncomfortable. "There are a few other traditional aspects of the spell. If Miss Granger should suddenly die, you would be forced to re-marry or die with her, so both of you should stay out of harm's way for at least the next year…"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Also…don't forget that this spell was not meant to force you into marriage just to make you miserable…though knowing some of the Blacks I wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't a secondary motivation…the spell was devised to continue the bloodline. It will increase your fertility for the year as well, so be aware…"

Draco blanched. "Are we talking about a simple increase in fertility or something more…drastic?"

His father chuckled. "My advice, as your father, would be that unless you want a child, you should abstain. As a man…I would definitely recommend both a contraceptive potion, and the contraceptive charm. And I would also point out that since you are legally married to the Granger girl having a once-off that resulted in a blond Malfoy bastard would most likely upset her…and knowing her level of wand work I would fear for your future reproductive health…I hear that Ronald Weasley has been to St. Mungos more than once about some rather sensitive issues."

His father cocked one eyebrow at him, and Draco tried to look innocent. How the hell did the man find out as much as he did?

"Are there any other issues I should know about? This curse seems like it's the gift that keeps on giving…"

Lucius nodded. "Well, the bond is a fairly moderate one. It won't cause either of you pain to be apart like some of the more drastic bindings. It won't allow you to read each other's mind, so you'll retain your privacy for the most part…but you will get flashes of emotion, and the…closer you become, the more flashes you'll get."

Draco shuffled the papers in his hands and decided that being blunt was the only was the only way to get his questions answered. "So you are saying that if I sleep with her, it will bind us even closer."

The older Malfoy nodded. "In part. But I meant exactly what I said. The bonding is meant to bring husband and wife together."

Draco groaned. "So you're saying that I have to live with her, but try to avoid her so we don't bond more than necessary…and sleeping with her is likely to produce a child no matter how careful we are."

"If you had told me, years ago that we would be having this conversation son…"

Draco snorted. "Oh there were many times I expected we'd be having this conversation…but I always expected that the woman involved would be that pug-nosed…"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "As if we would have bound you to Parkinson." Then his father's lips twitched.

"Have I told you how much I hate what you've done with the place?"

Draco smirked at Hermione…his wife. Jeez, even thinking it felt weird. His mind was still reeling from the information that he'd been given that morning.

"You've only mentioned it every single time you've been over since I bought it…so yeah, maybe 400 times…"

"Are you ever going to decorate it?"

He shook his head.

"If you decide that we should live here, you can do it, or hire a decorator. I don't care what it looks like and there's no way I'd be able to make it look…"

Hermione cocked her head to one side. Oh hell…he'd said too much.

"Look…?"

Oh well. The witch would have all of his secrets before the end of the year. This one was fairly painless. "I don't know how to make it seem home-like…welcoming." He didn't look at her when he said it. His family home was elegant. His personal home was totally blank, with only the necessary furniture pushed against random walls…

Her home was warm. Much like she was.

Hermione smiled at him. "It's all right. I think we'd better live here. I'd hate to add a room to a rented flat…the ministry has gone a bit crazy with regulating undetectable extension charms."

Draco leered at her playfully. It was an old game. "You mean we won't be sharing a bed? I thought I'd finally lured you into my evil clutches…"

Hermione laughed lightly.

"Evil clutches indeed. You talk a good game Malfoy, but I know your secret. Deep down under all that arrogance, you're actually a gentleman."

"Perish the thought."

She smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'll never tell. Who would believe me?"

She swished her wand and parchment and a quill appeared. "I'll just make a list of what I already have, and store the things that won't fit in here…"

"I'd better take you on a full tour of the house then."

"I haven't seen the whole thing?"

"Well, you've never seen the bedrooms to start. I want you to take the master suite. It's the only one with a private bath."

"Draco, that's really not necessary…"

"Well, it might be my only chance of getting you into my bed you see…even if I'm not in it at the time…"

She swatted him lightly. "Are you going to be like this the whole year?"

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Probably."


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: I**_ _ **did**_ _ **mention the updates would be slow, right? I'll try to put up one a week so keep an eye out on weekends (or just follow it if that's easier.)**_

Draco didn't return to the Auror's office. Being an Auror required more travel that it had in the past, he was often away for days and weeks on cases all over Britain. Draco didn't think that the curse would allo that, so he reluctantly took a leave of absence.

Within a week he was going crazy sitting at home with Severus' portrait. The git wasn't even there half the time since he spent a great part of his days mooning over the rather spectacular portrait of the young Minerva McGonagall that resided in the headmaster's quarters at Hogwarts.

He didn't need a job, but he required an occupation.

He told Hermione about his discontent over dinner about a week after she moved in.

"Any chance you want to do nothing but feed me?" She took another bite of the homemade pasta that he'd spent half the day perfecting. Her face was near-orgasmic, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably trying to hide his body's reaction. His worst fear was the binding letting her know how deeply attracted he was to her. He had to hope that his occlumency skills would aid him in that.

"As tempting an offer as that is…" And it was. "I need to do something productive with my time."

She paused for a long moment while she chewed another bite of the pasta thoughtfully. "This is fabulous. If you are certain you don't want to be the perfect house husband…" He chortled, right on cue. "Well, you could always brew for St. Mungo's."

She poured another glass of wine for each of them and they moved to the sofa. The house already looked warmer and welcoming; with a fluffy throw across the back of the sofa and pillows and pictures and all kinds of personal effects all over the place.

"I don't have any wish to drudge over pain potions and cough remedies."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. But you could volunteer to make the more difficult potions. They can't keep anyone capable of taking on the trickier brews with all the commercial brewing going on since the war. Anyone capable of brewing at that level is doing so for more gold elsewhere. You were always the most talented potion-maker in our year, despite the fact that my marks were better."

He smirked. "You are never going to let me live that down are you?"

She took a long sip of her wine and smiled. "Never."

He took a sip of his own wine. She'd picked it up on the way home. It wasn't bad.

She leaned in closer and he ruthlessly suppressed his attraction. "You also have an advantage that not just every potion maker would have." She nodded to the portrait of Severus Snape. He was pretending to sleep while he eavesdropped, but he managed to look hopeful nonetheless.

"It's not a bad idea. I'd try anything to keep me from going batty."

He'd never been idle in his life; before Hogwarts there were always tutors and social events, then they fought in a bloody war, and ever since he'd been an auror. Spoiled and willful…yes, he'd been both of those things. Lazy? Never. A Malfoy might look like they were standing still, but one should never confuse standing still with lying in wait.

Hermione put a pillow in his lap and rested her head on him while they both picked up their books. This was normal for her and had evolved from their relationship in eighth year.

She'd been head girl of course, and McGonagall had proven herself canny…she chose Draco as head boy.

Hermione had been defiant at first, the reluctantly kind when he'd proven that he didn't want trouble.

After he had comforted her the night her parents died, they'd moved into a solid friendship.

Neither of them slept well and so screaming in the head's dorm was common that year…truth be told, it was fairly common all over the school. But when he heard her reliving the torture his bitch of an aunt inflicted on her, he'd tried to wake her. She'd thrashed around so much he was afraid she'd hurt herself, so he wrapped her in his arms. They eventually slept.

He'd known when he woke the next morning that he was in trouble. She felt exactly right in his arms.

But she was taken.

He'd played off the incident, used it to maneuver into her good graces and her friendship. They'd ended up in each other's beds so often he started joking they should give up and just use one. "It would save time." She'd huffed about that, but she couldn't deny it.

"I'm quite sure Ron would object when he visits." She'd looked at him quellingly from under his Slytherin green duvet.

He'd smirked. "He doesn't already?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't know. There's nothing wrong with me seeking some kind of solace in the arms of a friend. But Ron's…" Draco had pulled her into his arms and soothed her.

Weasley was a jealous prat, and he had good reason to be. If Draco had seen a way, he would have stolen Hermione in a half-second. He intended to. But then life happened, and he'd been too frightened of losing what he had with her to make a move once Weasley was out of the picture.

So they'd spent years in each other's back pockets. He'd found that when he cared, he could be a pretty decent friend. Even Potter (eventually) admitted he was good for Hermione.

And now here they were, married, sitting on a couch, and reading.

"This is nice. Are you sure you don't want to stay here and brew with me Mrs. Malfoy? I could make it worth your while."

She rolled her eyes at his teasing, looking up from his lap. He had to remind a certain part of his anatomy that reacting at the moment was not a good idea. It was hard (pun intended) because that part of his anatomy wasn't much concerned with thinking.

"Draco…" He could hear the reluctance in her voice.

He kissed her fingers chastely. "I know, I know…the future of the oppressed people of the wizarding world lies in your delicate little hands." He covered her hands with his larger ones. "It's true. And they couldn't be in better hands. I just wish I could keep you all to myself, because I'm a selfish bastard."

She pulled his hand down to her lips and kissed it. "Prat. Since you will be working, we should establish a schedule for cleaning."

"No need. My elf is still coming in daily for that. I tried to do it the first few days but he threatened to poison my firewhiskey."

She opened her mouth and he put a finger on her lips. "Nope. You are the one who wanted him freed. Now he doesn't have to obey orders and he does whatever the hell he wants. It's not my fault if he decides to iron your knickers."

"Tell him to stay away from my knickers."

She caught his eye and they fell back onto the couch in a fit of giggles.

Her bouncing chest held his attention in a way that made his body harden uncomfortably.

Merlin, he was in trouble.

 **DMDMDM**

Severus watched him from the edge of the portrait, and didn't even pretend to do anything else.

"The first six potions look well…"

Draco nodded. "The seventh is something I'm modifying."

"Some sort of combination of a numbing solution and a love potion?"

"Well, it was a love potion, but I stripped out the ingredients that induce obsession. In this case is should only be a powerful lust potion."

Severus frowned. "And adding the numbing solution?"

"They should work together to produce a lust reducing solution."

"Ah, so things are progressing with Miss Granger."

"Things are exactly the same. Except now I know she's sleeping in my bed without me…and for some reason that's worse than holding her while she sleeps in a dorm."

"I can't imagine why."

Draco shrugged as he carefully measured out horned owl saliva. "Or maybe I'm just more in love with her now. It doesn't matter. I just don't want the bond to let her know that I'm lusting for her when we're doing simple things like ironing."

Severus shook his head. "I see. And what is so fascinating about ironing?"

"She runs her fingers over my shirts when she does it…smoothes the collar, buttons and unbuttons…it's a nightmare on my libido, not to mention it's bloody embarrassing that I get turned on when she's touching my shirts." Draco blushed pink as he admitted it.

Severus looked mildly alarmed. "I don't even know the word for a laundry fetish boy."

Draco snorted. "It's only when she does it. If I have anything, it's a Granger fetish."

He scooped out a bit of the potion and blew on it to cool.

He summoned two mice with his wand. "Let's see if this works…"


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: I know I told all of you when I posted that this would be a long time between updates, but I never intended for it to be this long. Sorry. I lost several chapters of various stories during the winter storms and it kind of made my muse want to curl up and refuse to come out and play. I will try to update more regularly, though I'm not committing to a schedule. For those of you who sent such encouraging (and in one case, threatening) PMs and reviews…thanks.**_

Hermione turned over for the fiftieth time that night, unaccountably hot and bothered with a side of achy need that she was well acquainted with.

The sheets smelled like him.

She groaned and decided that if she must take care of herself, she'd better do it in the bathroom. For one, she hoped that it would keep all mental images of herself finding sexual release in his bed out of his mind (it might be too late for that. She had abstained, but the blasted bond was a mental link…thinking about rubbing one out in his six hundred thread count sheets might be enough to alert him).

Merlin. She had no idea it was going to be so hard…

One shouldn't let one's friends know when one was wanking. It just wasn't done.

Especially when it was a constant temptation to wank to him.

Not that she had.

Not to him. Not really.

Maybe once or twice she'd allowed her mind to contemplate his long, artistic fingers when she was rubbing frantically after another boring blind date that was never going to go anywhere.

Perhaps there had been a time or two that she'd had to wear one of his shirts home and things had happened…like things tended to when you were wearing a shirt that smelled like sin.

And now she was sleeping in it. Drenched in that sinfully delicious scent that was quickly mixing with her own…and her own scent was trending more and more toward the particularly musky scent of sex…

She grumbled and poured a little handful of oil. Might as well make it quick. Hopefully the bond wouldn't wake him. She'd felt a tug once or twice from his end, so she was quite positive that the bond was keyed to sexual desire.

Unfortunately, sitting on the edge of the tub (even a tub this size) was not her preferred place to…take care of those thoughts that spring unbidden.

Blame it on having a curtained bed and silencing spells during her formative years…she was most comfortable using a bed.

She sighed, deciding it was late enough so that he would probably be asleep anyway.

She crawled back into the bed and took a deep breath of the pillow. She felt a corresponding tug inside her nether regions. She felt a deep crimson blush spreading across her chest. This wasn't how you treated a friend. Still, she couldn't block out the scent, and it did seem to lend a certain potency to her ministrations that had been somewhat lacking before.

 **DMDMDM**

Draco groaned in the guest bedroom, incredibly glad that there were no smirking portraits to see his obvious discomfort. His blasted potion wasn't helping. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

He stifled another moan and shuddered. What was wrong with it? It worked well enough in mice and even the kneezle in heat he'd brought in to test. Severus had been highly complementary in his cutting, sarcastic way…

But it wasn't doing anything for his little problem…or not so little problem.

He'd woken from a deep sleep with a hard-on of epic proportions.

He knew what must have happened of course. Something had triggered it. He groaned as he put a firm hand on his already weeping cock. She'd been thinking about him when she…Merlin. She was…and then she had an orgasm and fell asleep, leaving him with this monster.

Now he knew how women felt when their partner finished without them. Not that he'd done anything of the kind; at least not after the first few tries (there may or may not have been some appallingly bad fake orgasms from his partners to get him to STOP…he _might_ have been a tad too eager when it came to oral sex…and didn't have the skill that his over enthusiasm had eventually earned him).

Still, the image of her touching her sensitive breasts alone had him as hard as a fourteen year old virgin at a strip club. It only took a few well-placed thoughts and a few hard strokes and he was done.

He sighed, quickly went across the hall to the second bathroom, cleaned himself up and went back to his cold bed.

That was less than satisfying.

Yes, he'd gotten off. He always got off. Nothing new there.

But if one had Hermione Granger in one's bed, one should definitely wake with her hair in one's mouth and her pert bum snuggled into one's morning erection. That should be in a guidebook somewhere…

Unfortunately, Hermione Granger might be in his bed, but he hadn't joined her, so all thoughts of her bum should probably be kept out of his head before she smacked him. Or worse, set a flock of canaries on him. That was still one of her favorite tricks when she was well and truly annoyed…though the Weasel had most often been the recipient of that particular trick.

He pulled his blankets up and managed a smirk.

Sleep eventually found him.

 **HJGHJG**

The next morning was awkward. There was no other word for it.

Draco didn't quite meet her eyes as they sipped their morning coffee on the veranda. And to top matters off, she couldn't claim that she needed to hurry off to the ministry; it wasn't even a weekday. They'd planned to go to an open air market to get ingredients for dinner…no real dish in mind…just picking out the best of whatever was available and fresh from the farm. It was a small thing, but it had been a tradition in the Granger household from the time she was small on beautiful Saturdays. Her parents had not always been solid middle class. They'd grown up on farms…mum on a dairy farm, Da was raised on sheering sheep in the north. They'd made it into the middle class by the sweat of their brows, but even after years away, they missed the tastes of farm life. So the tradition of farmer's markets was born, and young Hermione had been treated to delicious fresh produce from the time she could eat solid food.

Draco generally found the whole thing charming and enjoyed going with her…but today he looked…unsatisfied.

She screwed up her courage to the sticking point (despite her embarrassment) and addressed the elephant in the room.

"So…the bond really does share sexual tension."

Draco choked on his coffee and glared at her for springing that on him so suddenly. She blushed slightly and shrugged.

"It was going to ruin our entire day if we didn't address it."

He shifted in his seat uneasily.

"For Merlin's sake, we are adults. Both of have been sexually active in the past, and we both knew that. The fact that those urges didn't just disappear is normal and healthy."

He glared at her and she firmly tramped down a slight surge of tension. "If you drag out a biology text I swear I will hex you."

She gave him a smile. "As long as you are talking to me, I'll count either as a win."

His cheeks flared pink and she knew, with a certain amount of conviction, that he was secretly pleased that she cared enough about him to broach a subject that made her feel very uncomfortable, despite her brave words about being adults. He knew exactly how many lovers she'd had, and all of her issues.

He sat down his cup. "So what? We just agree to ignore each other whenever…"

She shrugged. "I suppose we could make a schedule and the other partner could take a sleeping potion to give us a little privacy."

Draco groaned. "You _do_ know that this isn't something that's going to go away, correct? You jumped in and saved my life and this is your reward. You'll never be able to feel a moment of sexual release for the rest of your life that I won't know about."

She took his hand. "And I'd do it all over again." The physical link allowed him to sense more from the bond. She was telling the truth, and he knew it.

Unfortunately, that also sent a small jolt of desire through him.

"Bloody hell Granger. We are so screwed."

She leaned in and kissed his freshly-shaved cheek. "I don't think that being screwed is the problem, to be honest."

Draco groaned, but he didn't wallow in self-loathing.

She counted that as a win as well.


End file.
